


I'll Follow You To The Ends Of The World

by Kahoot4life



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: A LOT of Angst, Angst, Diego is trying and that's all that matters, Drug Addiction, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Klaus Hargreeves Deserves Better, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves Needs Help, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Ben Hargreeves, Protective Diego Hargreeves, Recovery, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, They all need hugs, War, a lot of fluff as well, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2019-11-16 09:42:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18091970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kahoot4life/pseuds/Kahoot4life
Summary: 'His name was Dave. He was kind, and strong, and vulnerable, and...beautiful'What if when Klaus comes back from Vietnam, he doesn't return alone. Unknown to Klaus, he accidentally drags a wounded soldier into the twenty-first century with him. The same soldier whose warm smile and soft touch had comforted Klaus throughout the struggles of war.





	1. The sounds of war

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this solely because Klaus is a smol bean who must be protected and deserved so much better than the shit he got. Who wants to start a Klaus deserved better club with me? Cuz I have the t-shirts and posters ready. 
> 
> But anyways, enjoy :)

 Gunshots. They were truly awful sounds. Sounds that echoed in his ears and made Klaus want to crawl into a small ball. They were worse than the sounds of the dead, crying and screaming in his ear when he didn't have drugs or alcohol to act as a blanket of protection. Worse than the cries and screams that plagued his dreams and haunted him in the daylight. Because when he thought back to gunshots all he could picture was pain, suffering, and bloodshed. Perhaps, he thought, it had to do with the spirits with fresh bullet wounds who would keep him up at night as a child.

Klaus believed that the sound of gunshots was the sound he despised the most in the world. Or at least he did. He realized now that it wasn't. At least the gunshots were normally followed by Dave's smooth voice, cracking a joke to make light of the situation. Klaus realized that the sound he detested most in this world was silence. More specifically, the deathly silence he was met with when he had called out Dave's name on that ghastly front line.

Blood. He didn't just hate the sight of it; he  _loathed_ it. He loathed everything it represented. Whether it was the blood of dead or dying soldiers, the blood of the ghosts surrounding him or even the blood Diego would wipe off of his knives, the sight of it made Klaus sick to his stomach. Especially when said blood was running from an open wound on his lover's chest. And all Klaus could do was helplessly cry for a medic, tears streaming down his face as he gently cradled Dave's handsome face in his lap.

They say that as you die you see your whole life flashing before your eyes. In Klaus’ case, he wasn’t the one whose time was rapidly running out, however, when he gazed into Dave's frightened but resigned face, he felt a part of him die. Klaus saw his entire pitiful life play itself in his mind in the matter of a few seconds. 

Klaus felt bitter. Bitter about fate, destiny, maybe God? He wasn't quite sure but he knew that a burning resentment had settled in his heart. Resentment that from the moment he had been born, it was like he was cursed. Because life had never been on his side. It had never been fair to him. And exactly when it seemed to show him some mercy and send him a beacon of hope, in the form of kind and caring Dave, it snatched it away from him again. 

"Pl-Please stay with me, Dave. Stay with me. No, no, no, no, no!"

The whistling bombs and agonized screams were like distant background noises now. All he could focus on was Dave. Sort of like what Dave had patiently gone through with him on the nights he couldn't block out the ghosts, 'Hey, It's okay. I'm here now, focus on me, not the ghosts'. 

With one bloody hand, he ran his fingers along Dave's pale face and with the other, he clutched onto him, as though he was too scared to let go. Devastated sobs wracked through his body and his gasping wails were drowned out by the sounds of war. He desperately pressed his lips against Dave's forehead for what could be the last time, holding no regard to the other soldiers who could see them. He cried and cried. Not just for Dave but for everything he had lost in his lifetime. Ben, his childhood, his chance for a normal life.

A bright blue flash of electricity. A large blur of colors and sounds. Another flash. Suddenly, he was back on the bus he had boarded almost a year ago. No sight of bodies or bombs or Dave. Only normal people getting about their utterly normal lives. Klaus wondered what that felt like. 

Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks. Not distressed sobbing like earlier, but silent tears. Silent tears with haunted eyes glazed over in pain. 

He looked down at his trembling hands by his side, soaked with mud and Dave's blood. Come to think of it, all his clothes were stained with the crimson symbol of death. Yet for some reason, it was oddly comforting. It was a reminder that Dave had been real, not a dream or a figment of his imagination.

He desperately tried to recall the last words Dave had said to him. It had been just minutes before the attack, Dave had pulled him away from the camp, away from view. He had tentatively placed a kiss on Klaus' forehead and then pulled him into a warm, sad kiss. Almost as if he was saying goodbye. As if he knew what was going to happen. He had then pulled away and cupped Klaus' face in both hands, "They're calling me to the front line but it's going to be okay. It'll all be over before you know it. Just stay here and wait for me, okay? Klaus, promise me you won't follow me like last time".

"I promise," he had replied, before adding, "Promise you won't leave me"

"Never. You haven't even had the chance to meet my sister yet," Dave replied with that smirk that made his knees weak. He had pulled his dog tags off and secured them around Klaus' neck. "I'll see you on the other side"

They had both broken their promises. 

He felt empty and broken as he gripped the dog tags around his neck, the only thing he had left of Dave apart from his memory. He'd rather be on a battlefield stuck in the past for a lifetime if it meant he could be in his boyfriend's arms. Instead, he was in the present where not one person realized he was missing. Where no one cared about him apart from the ghost of his dead brother. He hadn't seen Ben since he'd opened the briefcase. He wondered where that briefcase was. It was nowhere in sight.

Klaus stumbled off of the bus in a series of dazed movements, feeling slightly faint, sick and with an itch for drugs. Too weak and exhausted to do anything, he stood in that spot, staring blankly at nothing in particular. And then he sunk to his knees. Drowning in sorrow and tears, he hit the floor with a heavy thud. He curled up in a fetal position, sobbing heavily. He cried until he had no tears left to cry.

* * *

 

"Unauthorized round-trip travel to 1968. Explanation required," Hazel snapped.

"Shit, the junkie," Cha-Cha stated the obvious, "The hell does he think this is, a travel agency?"

"If we don't get that case back we're screwed"

As if on cue, a commotion could be heard from the bedroom. They shot each other wary looks, both pulling out guns from where they were concealed, moving slyly and cautiously to find out who dared break into their shared, shitty motel room.

Hazel and Cha-Cha had seen and been through a lot during their careers as feared assassins. Due to this, they liked to believe that they could expect anything thrown at them. However, neither of them could deny that the sight that met them made them both stop dead in their tracks. A man in camo uniform, boots, and a hat was lying face down and unconscious on the bedroom floor. Where he lay was also a puddle of blood and clutched tightly in his arms was their missing briefcase. 

"What in the hell?"

 


	2. Exit Music (For A Film)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus finally gets a hug

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops..this took way too long to update. My bad :)

"Dave!"

_He could hear the whirring of helicopters above his head. But where was Dave?_

"Dave!"

_The helicopters were getting louder. Explosions, gunfire, and death- death everywhere._

"Dave!"

Klaus suddenly gasped, heaving out uneven breaths. The bath water was already tainted with blood; was it his own blood or Dave's? He wasn't quite sure. Only that the sickly color made him want to gag. 

He was in such a dream state that hobbling out of the bathroom and sheepishly stumbling down the hallway to his bedroom was done almost completely subconsciously. Too lost in his own mind to focus on much else. Lost in his own thoughts until something snapped him out of it.

"Thank God," exclaimed a familiar voice. He didn't think it was possible to be any happier about finally seeing Ben for the first time in months. He would be the first to admit that having the ghost of his dead brother trailing behind him everywhere he went could get severely irritating, however, he found himself missing his constant presence during the past few months.  

"Hey Ben," he mumbled weakly, the ghost of a smile flickering across his face.

"Where have you been?" Ben snapped. His normally soft and calm tone was harsh, with a sharp edge to it. Klaus almost felt bad for alarming him. After all, Ben was probably the only one who had noticed his absence. 

"Well, dearest brother, I have been finding love on battlefields and mountains," he chuckled lightly.

"Klaus, I'm being serious. This isn't the time for joking around!" Ben scowled, however his features softened when he caught the way Klaus recoiled in on himself at his raised voice. A lasting effect of what their bastard father had put him through. "I'm sorry, I was just worried for you. One second you're on the bus, then you opened that briefcase and you disappeared for hours and I couldn't find you anywhere" 

"Ben, I was gone for months. That briefcase was some sort of time machine, like Five's power. It took me back to 1968; to the Vietnam war. I tried getting back, I really did, but the stupid briefcase didn't work.

For the first time in the many years of his non-existent existence, Ben was truly at a loss for words. "Vietnam? Holy shit, Klaus. How long were you gone?"

"Almost a year. The months were worth it though 'cause I fell in love," Klaus whispered tearily. "I-I fell hard, Ben. This is going to sound cheesy as fuck but you know when you love someone so much, nothing makes sense without them?"

Several more seconds of shocked silence passed. "I didn't think I'd ever hear you talk about someone like that"

"Nor did I. But Dave is special. He  _was_ special"

" _Was?"_

A pained expression crept onto Klaus' face. An expression of sorrow, and grief, and guilt and it was just so...miserable. So miserable it made Ben's gut clench uncomfortably because it was so unlike Klaus. The facial expressions he associated with Klaus, that  _everybody_ associated with Klaus, was playfulness, a childish carelessness, loneliness. But never grief-stricken.

Being dead meant Ben yearned a lot. Longing for the smallest things in life that he had been deprived from. He yearned to be able to touch, to feel, to be heard. He yearned to compliment Vanya on her music, to read books with Five, to talk to Allison about anything and everything. He yearned to go out running with Luther every morning or to sneak out to Griddy's with Diego. But most of all, he yearned to comfort Klaus, not just as a spirit but in person. To be his shoulder to lean on because clearly nobody else was going to do it.

"He's gone. And it's not right. It's not right because it should have been me," he choked out, a single tear running down his cheek. His frame shook with suppressed sobs. "It's not fair. Dave was pure and I deserved to take that bullet, not him"

Ben shook his head sadly, "That's not true, It's survivors guilt, Klaus. What happened was not your fault. It's not your fault that he died or that you survived. I'm sure 'Dave' wouldn't want you thinking that. Besides, you-"

A voice from the door cut him off. "You okay?". It was Five, eyebrows furrowed in curiosity. And was that concern? 

 ' _Wow, that's a first_ ,' Ben thought to himself bitterly.

"Yeah I just-long night" 

 "More than one from the looks of it" 

Klaus simply shrugged, refused to meet his eye. 

"You know I can recognize the symptoms Klaus. The jet lag. Headache that feels like someone shoved a box of cotton up into your nose and through your brain. You gonna tell me about it?"

The tension in the room was so thick you could've cut it with a knife. "Your pals, when they broke into the house and couldn't find you, took me hostage instead. And in return I stole their briefcase"

"And then you opened it," Five laughed humorlessly. "You know what this means?"

"Yeah, I'm ten months older now"

"Klaus, this isn't some sort of joke. It means that Hazel and Cha Cha will do anything to get that briefcase back. Where is it now?

"Don't have a clue"

"What?"

"It wasn't with me when I came back"

Five seemed to contemplate this for a second before pushing past Klaus and reaching for a piece of paper, scribbling something down while muttering something unintelligible under his breath. He then disappeared without another word. 

Klaus stared blankly at the spot Five had been in mere seconds ago, too exhausted to question where he was going or what he was doing. All he could focus on was the persistent itch underneath his skin. Aside from the heavy feeling of grief weighing down on his chest, he could also feel a burning agitation. Sweat was starting to build up on his forehead and all of his limbs were trembling. Withdrawal was one son of a bitch. Thankfully his room hadn't been cleaned in years so all the drugs he had stashed away over time were left untouched and practically screaming for him to take them. 

As he lifted up the mattress to grab the small container of brightly colored pills, he could almost feel Ben's judgmental eyes boring into the side of his head. 

"Please don't take anything right now," Ben pleaded.

"Sorry, bro. No can do," he shrugged, struggling with the baggie for a few moments before loosing patience and tearing it open.

"What about Dave? You can't summon him if you're high" 

"I'll get round to it. For you and Dave, I'll get sober. I promise, just-just let me get numb. I can't handle being back here right now". Maybe it's the way his voice broke or maybe it's the desperation shining in his eyes, but Ben hesitantly nodded his head, stepping back to watch reproachfully from the shadows. His silent disappointment was worse than his usual reprimanding.

Klaus downed a few pills, his anxiety settling and the ache in his muscles ceasing. The agitation eating at him gave way to a flood of guilt. Guilt about memories that sprung up, memories of Dave staying by his side during the worst of his detox, never looking at him in irritation or judgement when he gave up the fight against the cravings, but love and support. 

His grip on the pill bottle was so tight that his knuckles had turned white, the other hand grasped the dog tags around his neck in an even tighter, almost desperate grip. Every time he closed his eyes the devastating image of his lover, bloody and lifeless, the shadow of living man he had been only minutes before, flashed in his mind. The images were toturous, eating at whatever was left of his sanity. It was maddening. 

The pills slipped out of his hand, clattering across the floor. He strolled out of the room without looking back at the pair of crestfallen eyes or the pills of mocking temptation left scattered across the floor.

* * *

 

Dave groaned in pain as he slowly came back to consciousness. He felt like he'd been hit by a bus. The room he was in was dimly lit and had an eerie feeling to it. He tried calling out for help however everything that came out of his mouth was muffled and distorted. A piece of duct tape was plastered over his mouth, and both his arms and legs were tied to a chair. What happened? Had he been captured? Where was he? And more importantly, where was Klaus?

"Okay, who the hell is this dude?". It was a woman's voice, a rather stern-sounding woman. Maybe he had been captured by the Russians. He hoped Klaus had gotten out safely. Vulnerable, innocent Klaus who didn't belong in the violence of war.

"He's a soldier," answered a man's voice this time. 

"Well, no shit Sherlock! You got any other shocking discoveries you want to share?" she snapped, "Whoever he is, he brought back the briefcase. Which means he probably has something to do with that goddamn junkie"

The junkie? Could they...no. How could his captors possibly know Klaus? 

"We can question him once he wakes up," said the male voice.

"Well it looks like we don't have to wait too long," replied the woman, while a figure walked into his line of sight. A figure wearing a pink mask. "Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!". Dave flinched as the duct tape covering his mouth was ripped off.

The male walked up to stand beside the woman, wearing a blue mask. "Alright, you have five minutes to explain who you are, what you're doing here and why you have that briefcase"

"Fuck you," he spat out. A fist landed on his nose, probably breaking it. 

"I'll repeat myself. Who are you, what are you doing here and why do you have the briefcase?"

"My name is Dave Katz. I have no idea how I got here or why I have that briefcase"

"Yeah, sure and I'm the next president of the United States," she snarled sarcastically.

Dave glared up at her defiantly. "I'm telling the truth I swear I-"

"What's that around his neck?" _  
_

 

_Dave strolled out of the camp, intent on finding the one person who could get him away from the guns and the bullets and the war for a while. Who could give him a sense of home. Klaus. The mourning that hung around everything and everyone was suffocating. Klaus was like a fresh breath of air._

_Ever since he had literally popped into his life, Klaus Hargreeves had become the one person on Dave's mind. Dave remembered fondly how he had made quite a first impression in just a bloody towel and a briefcase. He was broken and haunted, a lifetime of trauma hidden behind a goofy smile. He was also beautiful, funny, kind, captivating. He drew him in, like some sort of drug._

_They had a secret hideout, right behind the blossom tree near the camp, overlooking the lake. Truthfully, it wasn't a secret hideout at all, instead it was a small place barely hidden from view that none of the other soldiers bothered exploring. However, it was nice, pretending they had a special place just for them.  And he knew that that was exactly where Klaus would be._

_Klaus was sat on the ground, surrounded by ribbons and bows and buttons and sequins. He was humming an unfamiliar tune while twisting all the different types of objects into each other, a carefree and content air around him. A fresh breath of air._

_"What are you doing?" Dave asked softly, settling down next to him._

_"I'm making a necklace," he replied with a beam that lit up his whole face. "I used to make these all the time when I was younger, with my sisters, Allison and Vanya. Sometimes we'd braid each others hair and put the bows in that. There wasn't much to do when we weren't being dad's minions and weren't allowed out of the house much so we had to entertain ourselves with whatever we could"_

_"Your sisters sound nice"_

_"Yeah, they're okay. My siblings and I haven't really gotten along in the past few years so I don't really know them very well to be honest. I don't think they want to get to know me"_

_"I'd love to have the chance to get to know you better,"  Dave admitted, blood rushing to his cheeks when he realized what he'd accidentally blurted out._

_"Really?" Klaus seemed elated, a blush coloring his cheeks as well and a shy smile making Dave's heart soar._

_"Of course, you're amazing"_

 

"It's just an ugly necklace," the man in the blue mask answered. 

"Well pass it here. Let's see why he's wearing it"

Despite the exhaustion, pain and hunger slowly eating away at what was left of his strength, Dave struggled even harder against the bonds the second he felt the strange necklace getting taken away. 

 

_"There, all done!"_

_It looked rather odd. The mismatch of colors clashed uncomfortably with each other, every single item on it was a completely different size and shape to the next, and despite being made mere seconds ago, it looked like it was on the verge of falling apart._

_"It's beautiful". 'Like you' is what Dave wanted to say, however, he thankfully managed to stop himself in time._

_"Thank you. It's all yours" Klaus exclaimed, shifting around excitedly with the finished necklace hanging in his hands._

_Dave blinked in surprise, "Are you sure? It took you a long time"_

_"I'm positive," Klaus replied, "I can't think of a single person who would look as amazing in it as you would"_

_Dave blushed at the praise, blushing more when Klaus leaned forward to pull the necklace around his neck. He pulled back to glance at his masterpiece, "Perfect!"_

_"Thank you" said Dave, soft-spoken as always._

_"It's my pleasure," Klaus smiled, leaning in once again to press a single innocent kiss against Dave's cheek. "I'll see you around"_

_Despite what the other men in the camp may have thought, Dave kept the string of ribbons and sequins on at almost all times. A lot of the pieces fell off and the condition worsened and worsened over time, however it became some sort of personal good omen. It was a miracle the necklace lasted so long. If they saw it, the other soldiers didn't say a word while some simply chuckled, probably assuming it was from a daughter back at home or something. Dave didn't bother correcting them. It was something that only belonged to him and Klaus, like the secret hideout._

 

"What's wrong, soldier? Want it back?"

Dave nodded desperately, probably making a pathetic sight to look at, however, he couldn't find it in himself to care.

"Well, you're gonna have to tell us everything you know"

"I swear to God I don't know anything. I have no clue what you want me to tell you," Dave croaked in broken voice.

 "Wrong answer," she snapped, dropping the necklace on the floor with a mocking smile.

The man stepped forward, a lit match ,seemingly pulled out of nowhere, raised over the ribbons threateningly. "You have one more chance, sergeant"

"I don't know. I don't know who you are or where I am or what I'm doing here. Please just let me go, you've got the wrong guy"

"Well you just wasted your final chance". The match was dropped, the necklace was burnt, dug into the carpet by the heel of the man's shoe for good measure. 

A knock at the door saved Dave from any further confrontation. The duct tape got plastered over his mouth again and both himself and the chair he was still bound to got yanked away, his captors no longer in his view, although he could still hear everything happening. Not that anything they were saying made much sense to him. 

"It's from Five. Says he has something to discuss with us"

 _Five?_ Wasn't that the name of one of Klaus' brothers? 

 "Let's go see what he has to say. Maybe it's about the soldier"

Dave sensed it before he felt it. He sensed something coming down above his head. Heard the swooshing of air. And then all went black.

 

 

* * *

"You also said that licking a nine volt battery would give me pubes," Klaus slurred, unable to admit that the silence of the car would lead him to dark places he would rather avoid.

Klaus was back to a state that he was very familiar with. Lightheaded, tipsy and dazed. The state in which he had spent the majority of his teen years and adulthood. The effect the alcohol had on him left him both ashamed and relieved; relieved that the screaming craving had finally died down and ashamed that he was too weak to resist the craving. The state numbed every bit of his senses, so much so that he didn't even bother objecting when Diego pushed him back in the direction of the car. That is until, an echoing series of sounds made him stop dead in his tracks.

The gunshots rang in his ears. Suddenly he was no longer standing in a run down motel. He was in the jungle, Dave on his right with a rifle clutched in his arms, another soldier on his left. The no-name soldier had a youthful appearance, probably wasn't even in his twenties. The same age Klaus was while he was fooling around at nightclubs and house parties. 

 

_"We shouldn't go too close to enemy territory, just close enough. We don't want to risk repeating what happened last time," Dave said in a hushed tone, grimacing at the reminder of the disaster that took place the last time. Klaus and the young soldier simply nodded, following Dave's lead and crouching behind a large bush while Dave crept forward and kept watch._

_The kid huddled beside him was clearly on edge with anxiety, eyes darting from left to right and hands noticeably trembling. So Klaus smiled in what he hoped was a comforting way, hoping to distract him from his nerves, "What's your name?"_

_"Richard Johnson". He seemed to be relieved by the distraction, physically relaxing as his attention turned to Klaus._

_"How old are you, Richard?"_

_"I'm seventeen". Seventeen. Not even a legal adult yet. Practically a child._

_"Well, Richard, would you rather marry the love of your life or have the job of your dreams? Completely serious question," Klaus whispered, cautiously keeping his tone low so that they wouldn't attract unwanted attention._

_A small smile graced Richard's features, the lines of distress that didn't belong on such a young face no longer in sight, "I'm already getting married to the love of my life". He whispered it with a love-struck expression, holding up his hand to show off the engagement ring. Klaus could imagine himself supporting a similar expression every time he thought of Dave._

_"Oh, do tell,"  Klaus smirked, "What's her name? How did you meet? When's the wedding?"_

_"Her name is Louise Clark, soon to be Louise Johnson. We're both from a small town back in New York, so I guess that's how we met and we're going to have the wedding as soon as-"_

_"We have to move". Dave's voice, blunt and urgent. They were immediately on high alert, all traces of the merry conversation gone._

_And then the gunshots started, echoing for miles. A hand grasped Klaus' arm, pulling him away from the gunfire. He was yanked into safety, Dave's strong arm wrapped around him securely. However, Richard was nowhere to be seen. They remained hidden for what felt like hours, clinging to each other for comfort, until the gunshots came to an end. Still no sign of Richard._

_They warily crept out of hiding, wincing at the overly loud sound of every twig that snapped underneath their weight. However both men froze when they looked up. Richard was laid on the ground only a few feet away, covered in dark red blood._

_Klaus was the first to react, scrambling to his feet and sprinting to the young boy. With the small glimmer of hope he had left, he chanted in his mind as he checked the pulse, 'Please don't be dead, please don't be dead, please don't be dead, don't be dead, please, please, please". It was no use. He was dead. Still, with that same glimmer or hope, Klaus would not accept that. He could not. He shook his head back and forth, the motion making him slightly nauseous. He was only vaguely aware of Dave kneeling down next to him. "D-Dave, we have to get him to a medic. Surely, there's something they can do"_

_"There's nothing they can do, he's gone. I'm so sorry, baby"_

_"No, no. He's not gone, he's only seventeen. He can't be gone!" Tears were welling up in his eyes and he was certain he was going to throw up. The blood was everywhere, the grass underneath their feet stained red. Two bullets in his leg, one in his chest and another having been shot through his mouth, his face now an unrecognizable, bloodied mess._

_"He's in a better place now"_

_"Don't give me that bullshit! Why are you giving up on him, Dave?" The tears were falling down his face now. And he knew it was pointless getting angry with Dave. Besides, that was the gruesome reality of war. But he couldn't help the rage, the helplessness. Because Richard was only seventeen years old and had yet to live his life. It was wrong and unfair. And just like Richard, the small glimmer of hope died._

_Without thinking twice, he gently removed the engagement ring from Richard's finger, inspecting it a bit closer before pocketing it. It was a glistening gold, the word 'forever' engraved on the front. He didn't know what he was going to do with it or where he was going to take it but he knew that he couldn't leave it there on a corpse near enemy territory._

_"We need to go, love"_

_However the world around him was spinning, everything out of focus. Everything around him faded into each other. All the sounds were distorted. Was there someone holding his hand?_

_"Klaus"_

_Was that Dave? It sounded like Dave. The indistinct haze became to much for him so his eyes fluttered shut._

_"Klaus"_

_There was someone holding his hand. Dave!_

"Klaus!"

It wasn't Dave, it was Diego. He was sat on a step, a very concerned Diego kneeling in front of him with an equally concerned Ben hovering over his shoulder. 

"Klaus, are you with me?"

It all came flooding back. The briefcase. The bus and finally returning 'home' after ten months. The veterans bar. Hazel and Cha Cha and the familiar shitty motel. Gunshots. 

"Yeah, yeah I'm with you. Sorry about that"

"Don't be sorry. You wanna talk about whatever just happened?"

Klaus went to answer, probably dodge the question with a crappy joke prompting Diego to roll his eyes, realize Klaus was still being Klaus, and continue tracking down the assassins. However, he couldn't get a single word out without choking up, his eyesight blurring with unshed tears. 

Diego's eyes widened at the look of pure devastation on his little brother's face (because it didn't matter that they were all born on the same day, Klaus was and always would be his younger brother). "Klaus, talk to me. What's wrong?"

The grief and misery and heartsickness weighing down on him all came crashing down. His walls crumpled, the forced smile fell and the tears were let loose. He vaguely felt firm arms wrapping themselves around his shoulders. Stiff, hesitant, slightly awkward and so...so 'Diego' that it made the last of his mental defenses crack.

He didn't know how long they remained there, probably the longest time the two had spent in each other's company in years. Which, come to think of it, was pitiful. 

"This has got to do with the one you lost and what happened at the bar, doesn't it?" Diego asked, pulling himself out of Klaus' grip. Through his sniveling, Klaus forced a shaky nod.

"Do you want to talk about it now?". This time a shake of the head.

"Are you sure? If you want, we can talk about it later"

"Yes, I'm sure. I really don't want to talk about it now," Klaus replied, a silently pleading look on his face. Instead of focusing on the wary eyes of Diego or the hovering, concerned eyes of Ben, he kept his own eyes trained on a spot on the ground.

"Okay, fine. But we are going to talk about this later," sighed Diego, straightening his back abruptly as if suddenly recalling where they were and what they were doing. "Alright, enough soppy shit. I've got things to do, come on"

Klaus rolled his eyes at his brother's discomfort, letting himself get hauled up to his feet. 

"There could be clues about where they're going in the hotel room, let's go there. This would be way easier without those stupid masks. They had a big ass box in the backseats, did you see the box? It was as big as me. They could be storing weapons in there which means-"

Klaus tuned out the rest of what Diego was rambling about, the fierce way he marched as he spoke enough to mentally exhaust him alone. He didn't bother trying to fight him off as Diego pulled him into the direction of the motel rooms with a tight grip on his wrist. Nor did he fight him off as he was tugged into one of them, left watching vacantly while Diego rummaged around the room.

The room looked bare and empty, scarcely used. Klaus doubted that they would have left anything behind if they hadn’t even used it yet. He was prepared to turn his back and leave, however, something caught his eye. 

Anyone else would have missed it; Klaus had almost walked right passed it. In the corner of the room was a pile of ashes, which could only just be made out as the remains of ribbons and buttons. Klaus knelt down, grasping two glaringly familiar buttons in his trembling hand. The same buttons that had been hanging proudly from the love of his life's neck for the past few months. "Dave..."

He was distracted by Diego's voice, confusion laced in his tone. "Klaus, look at this"

Diego held up a piece of paper. Scrawled across the piece of paper, in large, bright red letters, were the four words, ' **Your Soldier Says Hello** "

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slight warning for further chapters- I don't know how I feel about Luther. He was really annoying in the show but I can also understand why he is the way he is so this may or may not be Luther friendly.


End file.
